


Chains of Silver, Chains of Gold

by Port_in_a_Storm



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mafia AU, Non-Graphic Violence, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:53:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5367233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port_in_a_Storm/pseuds/Port_in_a_Storm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dingles took most things as a threat, and a new, equally as dangerous family rocking up in their village was no exception. Robert and Aaron should be chained to their families, but the chain that links them together is so much stronger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chains of Silver, Chains of Gold

**Author's Note:**

> My first multi-chapter fic! Thank you all so much for the Kudos and the kind comments in my previous posts: it means so so much to me! 
> 
> This is a mafia-style AU, but not so much based on the Italian roots, but more just 'we rule this town' type power-family. Please be patient with me in regards to updates (although I know you'll be nothing but, you beautiful people!), as I am currently working through assignments. That being said, I hope you all enjoy this story!

Emmerdale was like one of those types of people who knew too much: almost too innocent, too perfect, until the surface was scratched off, and a plethora of secrets were revealed, scattering like ants under a hot magnifying glass. The village was a reflection of the people who lived there: some quaint, some simple, some beautiful, some dangerous. It just so happened that the family who ran the place was a combination of all four at once. 

To look at, the Dingles were nothing really special. To be honest, they seemed fairly ordinary almost. It was only after staying in the village for a while, after seeing the mechanics of the place, the machinations which happened in the dark corners of the pub and even darker corners of people’s minds that anyone started to see what was really happening: the arguments which were quickly subdued with a whisper in the right ear, or a punch in the right direction; the people who disappeared from time to time, only to turn up again suddenly singing a different tune, or not turn up again at all; the protection which extended to some but not to others. Their world ran smoothly, or as smoothly as it could with a mafia style family in the village. People knew who to steer clear of, and who to go to for help (as long as they either had the right contacts or could give something in return). It took an equally dangerous family to mess that up.

****

Home Farm had stood empty for only a month before a new occupier had moved in. Robert Sugden walked through the door and was taken aback by the size of the empty house. Of course, he remembered it vaguely, but he forgot just how massive it really was. Now it belonged to him; well, to him and his brand new family.

When Lawrence White had told his daughter and her soon-to-be husband (in a voice which brooked no arguments) that they were moving to Emmerdale, Robert didn’t quite know what to feel. It had been a long ten years since he had set foot in the village he had once called home, and things had changed drastically.

‘Are you sure you can’t dissuade him?’ Robert asked Chrissie one morning over breakfast. ‘You don’t really want to live in a tiny village, do you?’

Chrissie shrugged and a smile spread on her face. ‘Oh I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It could be nice. It could do Dad some good: he’s not getting any younger after all. Besides, you know no one can deter him once his mind is set on something. And,’ she walked to him and laid her hands on his shoulders, ‘won’t it be good for you to see your family again?’

‘I don’t think they’ll feel quite the same way, to be honest. Especially Andy. He was hardly my biggest fan when I left, I can’t imagine how he must feel about me now.’

‘Well, don’t worry. I’m sure it will all be sorted out.’ She pecked him on the lips, a kiss that he smiled into. But as soon as she left the room, his smile faded. The Whites ‘sorting it’ was exactly what he was worried about.

Standing here now, a scant fortnight since that moment, Robert still didn’t know what to feel. His first thought was that Home Farm was apt for a family like the Whites: it was extravagant, it screamed money and status, and there were secrets hidden in every part of the house and its land. 

‘So?’ said Lawrence from behind him. ‘What do you think?’ His mouth was curved in a smug smile and it made Robert feel sick to his stomach. There was a time, once, when that smile would have made tingles rush through his spine. Those days were long gone; now Lawrence came with a feeling of unwanted danger and threat.

He summoned a smile for the man nonetheless. ‘It’s great. When you said we were moving here, I didn’t think we’d be moving to _this place_.’

‘Only the best for my family.’ He squeezed Robert’s shoulder and chuckled. ‘Chrissie told me you were worried about coming back here. There’s nothing to be concerned about: I’m sure your family will be very pleased to see you.’ He gave a smile again, one too sugary sweet to make Robert feel completely at ease, then let go. ‘Now, I’m going to take my grandson and explore the grounds. Why don’t you and Chrissie make yourselves at home?’

****

If anyone asked Aaron, he was a Dingle. It wasn’t his fault he had to keep his father’s last name – it was about the only thing the bastard had given him. He was... well, not exactly _proud_ of his family, but they were great on loyalty and that was something he valued. 

Aaron Livesy: a Dingle with the wrong name. He had latched onto the idea of his family being the ‘mafia’ when he was younger. He wanted to lord it over everyone, until Paddy and Chas deterred him. It still didn’t stop him being a little shit just six years ago, however. But time and life had changed him, and after everything he had been through, well, he wanted more than anything to stay out of prison. Now, he was content to go to work for his uncle at the garage, come home to the pub, and stay out of trouble in between.

It was in the pub that he heard the latest piece of gossip: that Home Farm had been sold yet again. It seemed that no one outside of the village ever got the memo that the huge house and its land were cursed: no one who had lived there had ever had the happiest of endings. Aaron rolled his eyes as he listened to the murmurs around him. He would never be one of those people who went out of his way to know the gossip, but living in a village like this, he got to hear it anyway; couldn’t escape it most days. 

‘The Whites,’ Nicola was saying to Laurel who, like Aaron, didn’t really look like she gave a toss. He had heard Marlon talking to Paddy about Laurel, and the way she was turning to drink nowadays. He knew that his cousin would never tell his family: god knows what the Dingles would do to the poor woman if they knew that she was causing Marlon grief.

‘But, you’ll never guess what? Robert Sugden was there.’

And that… that name got the attention of nearly everyone in the room, even his Mum. ‘Sugden?’ she said shrilly. ‘What the hell is _he_ doin’ back here?’

Nicola shrugged. ‘His father-in-law moved the family here, apparently.’

‘Father-in-law?’ his Mum laughed. ‘Don’t tell me that little rat got married!’

‘Not yet,’ Nicola grinned, completely in her element. ‘But with all that money floating around them, I’ll be surprised if he calls the wedding off!’

The women cackled, and Aaron shook his head, downing the rest of his beer and getting off the stool. 

‘’Ey, where you off to?’ 

Trust his Mum to have the eyes of a hawk even when she was supposed to be serving pints and slagging off people she used to know. ‘Out,’ he said. 

‘Oh right, thanks. I’m only your Mum.’

Aaron sighed so hard it almost raised the roof on the pub. ‘For god’s sake. I’m just goin’ out, Mum. Into town, probably. Or maybe just to see Adam. Alright?’

‘Alright! Don’t bite my ‘ead off!’

He shook his head again and walked off. He loved his Mum, he really did, but over-protective was a term that she had learned a few years ago, and now was trying her very best to perfect it. He appreciated it, but he wasn’t a teenager anymore. He could look after himself. 

He walked through the village, intending on walking the short distance to Butler’s Farm, when a figure in the graveyard caught his attention. A tall man, his shoulders hunched over in the same way Aaron’s did when he used to visit Jackson’s grave. Aaron looked away and kept walking.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me!: portinastorm.tumblr.com  
> Say 'hi'!: @portinastorm89 (twitter)


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